The South Sea
by StarBlaze666
Summary: Okay, what if there was an Amazon-type community in Middle Earth, made up purely of women? And what if Legolas stumbles upon them? I suck at summaries. Plz R/R.
1. The Lure of an Elven Song

A/N This takes place after the Lord of the Rings. All unknown characters belong to me. Everyone else belongs to the literary genius and dear, departed JRR Tolkien.  
  
Ten-year-old Sahóra Aear pushed a lock of sweaty, red curls out of her face as she stood to stretch a back sore from a day of weeding. The plants were still young and weeding was a vital, if tasking, job. She shivered slightly as a cool wind caressed her sweaty skin. Sahóra, or Sári as she was more often called, was part of a community that consisted only of women. Men, except for the body slaves of the Mener (leader) and the captives kept for mating purposes, were outlawed. Indeed, young Sári had never seen a man before. Male children were taken away at birth to be either put to work or trained as body-slaves for the Mener. Once those that had been put to work were past puberty, they were put into the Ziebarth, where the women mated. Before that, though, they were kept far away from the rest of the community. Sári's bright emerald eyes gazed into the neighboring forest; she thought she had heard something among the trees. Shrugging, she turned to go home, happy that her day's work was over, when she heard the most beautiful voice singing in the forest. Curious, little Sári wandered into the trees, unaware that Kheti, one of the Mener's top guards, was watching. *^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^* Legolas had watched the little girl while she worked. Pretty now, she would become beautiful as she grew. He began to sing, hoping his voice would attract her. She had worked all day, with no complaint and no adults around. Legolas had had the sudden urge to speak with her. As he had hoped, she followed the sound. She now stood there watching him suspiciously, but not saying anything. She didn't want to interrupt his song. When he finished, Legolas gave the girl a charming smile. "Did you like my song, little one?" Sári didn't know what to think. "What are you?" she blurted out rudely. She had never seen anyone quite like Legolas. You must remember, Sári had never seen a man before, never mind a male Elf. Legolas laughed. "Why child, I am an Elf! Have you never seen an Elf before?" Sári shook her head ashamedly. Legolas softened his tone. "That is quite all right, little one. We are a secretive lot. My name is Legolas Greenleaf. What is yours?" "Sári." "Well Sári, would you like to learn my song?" he asked, outstretching his hand towards her. Sári nodded and reached out to take his hand. A lasso came flying out of nowhere. Sári screamed. Before Legolas could do anything, the lasso tightened around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Kheti came running out of her hiding place and finished tying the Elf with a brisk efficiency. When she finished, she looked over to Sári. "Did he hurt you?" Kheti demanded. "N-no, but, oh Kheti! He was going to teach me his beautiful song!" "That's what he said." Kheti looked at him distrustfully. "That's what I meant!" Legolas interjected angrily. 'How dare this woman?!' he thought. Kheti struck him violently across the face. He reeled backwards from the blow. "Silence!" Sári cowered behind the woman's leg. Rather than skirts, this dark, fighting woman wore breeches for the free use of her legs. Legolas flashed Sári a sympathetic look. "I will be quiet, if only for the child's sake," he said quietly. Kheti eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean?" "You're scaring her!" Kheti looked at Sári, as though she just noticed the girl was clinging to her leg like a burr. "It's all right," Kheti said soothingly. "You can let go now, Sári. He can't hurt you, now." Legolas opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off by a small voice. "But Kheti, why would Legolas hurt me? He was really so kind. He was going to teach me that lovely song." She looked up at the fighting woman with wide, hopeful eyes. Legolas smiled in spite of himself, but the woman's expression didn't soften in the slightest. "You are young yet, Sári. You'll have to learn. He never meant to teach you his song." Kheti flashed Legolas a hard, unforgiving look. "We'll have to present him to Mener Savarah. I dare say he'll make a fine addition to the Ziebarth, once he learns to hold his tongue." Sári's pale face turned completely white. She and all other children were frightened of the dark, foreboding place. Many women used their men hard, beating them when they weren't fully pleased. The men's screams were heard often. "B-but Kheti! He didn't *do* anything! Please, please! Don't take Legolas there!" The child began to weep silently. "Don't worry about me, child," Legolas said confidently. "I'll be fine. But don't ever forget; whatever they tell you, I would never harm you." Kheti kicked Legolas in the groin to silence him. Sári flinched, but said nothing. Legolas mourned silently. 'She lost a part of her innocence today, all because of me.' They made their way to the Mener's home, Kheti forcing Legolas in front of her. 


	2. Meeting the Mener

Savarah was a woman in her late forties, with light blond hair and cobalt-blue eyes. She was still lovely, despite the lines of age on her face. She would need to name an heir, as she was past the age for children and had yet to conceive, despite her efforts. Her sister-daughter, Sahóra Aear, would be the right choice, especially since the child would be living with her. Savarah's sister had just died in childbirth. The baby, more's the pity, was a scrawny boy. Savarah had the unholy child drowned; to let him live would have been an insult to her sister's memory. Savarah was surprised to see Sahóra, Kheti and a *very* comely man coming towards her. "How's Mama?" Sári asked, as soon as she saw her aunt. Savarah just shook her head. Sári bowed her own head sadly. 'Another part of her innocence gone,' Legolas thought, feeling sympathetic towards the girl. "You'll be living with me now, Sahóra," Savarah said gesturing to maid. "Follow Kahra. She'll help you get settled." As soon as they were gone, Savarah turned an appreciative gaze on Legolas. "Where did this one come from?" "The forest," Kheti replied shortly. "He was trying to take advantage of your sister-daughter." Legolas glared at her furiously. "I wasn't-" "Hush," Savarah said, caressing his chest. Legolas flinched. "Now, you can stay here, be treated like royalty, so long as you stay a body slave. Or you may face rape and torture until you die," she purred invitingly. Legolas spat in her face. Savarah pulled away sharply. "So, you choose death. Kheti," she turned to the fighting woman, "you may have a body slave to warm your bed tonight, for your good work this day. Or, if you wish, you may break this one in." The fighting woman gave a feral, dangerous smile. "I'll take this one. Thank you gracious Mener." Before Kheti could drag Legolas off, Savarah turned to the Elf. "You received a better chance than most. Within a week, you'll be screaming for death." Legolas gave her a piercing stare. "I'd be screaming for death sooner if I allowed myself to become your pet. Take care of Sári," he added suddenly. "She is a jewel, a gift from the gods. You will be truly sorry if she comes to any harm." *^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^* Sári came downstairs to join her aunt at breakfast. "Oh, Aunt Savarah! May I see Legolas today?" she asked hopefully. "He never did get the chance to teach me that wonderful song." Savarah couldn't bear to tell those wide, trusting eyes that she had sent Legolas to the frightening Ziebarth. She thought quickly. "He was killed, Sahóra. He tried to run away, but he was caught be a pack of wolves. I'm very sorry. We tried to prevent it..." "At least," Sári said quietly, "he didn't have to be put in the Ziebarth." Savarah looked away quickly, so Sári couldn't see the lie in her eyes.  
  
A/N Sry that was so short. More's coming up, including the intervention of some more of Tolkien well-loved characters. 


	3. Memories

6 years later...  
  
Aragorn had long since given up his friend for dead. At least, he had until Arwen had woken up one night screaming. "Undómiel! What is wrong?" "Oh, Estel! It's Legolas!" Arwen cried. "He's in such pain. I don't know how he lasted so long! Oh sweet Iluvitar." She sobbed onto her husband's shoulder, but Aragorn barely noticed. Legolas? Alive? After all this time? Or was it just merely a horrible dream? Dare he hope? A memory resurfaced, unbidden, in the King's mind.... *^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^* "Legolas? You wish to talk?" A much younger, awkward, teenage Aragorn asked, standing in the doorway of the Elf's rooms in Rivendell. He shifted nervously watching the impossibly beautiful Elf raise his golden head. "Ah, Estel. Come in. Shut the door if you wish," Legolas said, gesturing with a graceful arm. Aragorn complied, closing the door gently behind him. Legolas stood in one fluid motion and walked up to the Man. "It seemed to me, Estel, that you had forgotten your manners at dinner this night." Heat rose in Aragorn's cheeks. Indeed, he had stared covertly at the Elf when he thought Legolas wasn't watching. Something in him stirred whenever he saw Legolas. Legolas watched Aragorn's reaction with mild amusement. Really most Men were quite funny. They didn't mind pursuing females, but the idea of being with another male, even if it would make their short lives much more enjoyable, was unheard of. Legolas spread his arms out. "Well here we are, alone. What will you make of this opportunity?" Aragorn's flush deepened. "I really think I should leave." Legolas moved closer to him. "Don't deny that you wish this, Estel." He glanced down at the telltale bulge in the man's breeches. "Your body does not lie." Legolas did not think it was possible, but the Man's face grew even more red. Rolling his eyes, Legolas moved even closer, so close that he could feel the teenager's heartbeat. He was pleased when Aragorn didn't move away from him. "You didn't answer me before, Son of Man," Legolas whispered softly. "What will you do with this opportunity?" "Please, Legolas," Aragorn begged. "I don't know how to ask." "Shh." Legolas pressed a finger against Aragorn's lips. "Softly, Estel. I'll show you what to do." Aragorn nodded, the feel of Legolas' hard cock against his own, through their breeches, was driving him mad. The Elf began to grind his hips into the teenager's. His deft fingers started unbuttoning the Man's shirt. Aragorn reached down and pulled the hem of Legolas' tunic over his golden head. With a growl, he ripped off the Elf's green leggings, revealing the Elf completely. He gazed at Legolas' pale, exquisite beauty for a moment, as his own breeches were removed, although much more slowly. Legolas gently pushed Aragorn towards the bed. Positioning himself above the teenager, he entered Aragorn as delicately as he could. The Man still whimpered a bit. Legolas stroked the teenager's sweaty brow soothingly. He began to thrust in and out of Aragorn, stroking the Man's cock in time with his thrusts. They finished at around the same time, Legolas filling Aragorn with warm fluid. Legolas collapsed, sweaty and exhausted, next to Aragorn. Aragorn was tired as well, but it was a good tired. He had drifted off to sleep next to the naked Elf, pleasant dreams filling his mind. *^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^* Aragorn had no disillusions about loving Legolas, or about Legolas loving him. What he had felt for the Elf was only a physical attraction; a physical attraction that had been sated after that night. He loved Arwen, and had no intention of leaving her side for Legolas. But, Legolas had been a good friend for a long time. Aragorn vowed to find his friend if he was still living. Aragorn set out before dawn the next morning, with only Gimli for company. The Dwarf had insisted on coming along. "The Elf was my friend, too," the Lord of the Glittering Caves had growled. "Besides you'll need an extra set of eyes to catch an Elf and an extra person for protection. Like it or not, you are a King; a King with no heir." Aragorn finally caved (A/N pardon the pun), and had ordered up a stout little pony for the Dwarf to ride. Gimli hadn't objected, showing how truly serious he was about coming along. Aragorn had waved everyone else off. And so they had left, with only a faint hope in their hearts.  
  
A/N That was my first attempt at slash. Don't be too harsh! 


	4. Ideas

Sixteen-year-old Sahóra Aear dearly loved swordplay. It was as graceful and beautiful as a dance, yet it was dangerous and deadly. She smiled slightly to herself as she trained with Kheti. 'Swordplay and healing. Some Mener I'll turn out to be,' she thought, blocking a blow. Aside from training in the fighting arts with Kheti, Sahóra was apprenticed to the best healer in the town, Zahalin. Zahalin had been impressed with Sahóra. "You have a gift for healing," Zahalin had told the girl. "It would be best if that gift didn't go to waste." Savarah hadn't been pleased.  
  
"You are heir to the position of Mener!" Sahóra's aunt had yelled. Now in her early fifties, signs of age were beginning to show heavily on Savarah's once-lovely face. "Why waste your time in swordplay and healing!?"  
  
"And what am I supposed to do?" Sahóra had asked evenly. "Waste my time in bodily pleasures as you do? Both skills are useful, whereas my skills in bed won't be worth shit in a crisis."  
  
"As soon as you have an heir, the better," Savarah had hissed through her clenched teeth. "And let us all hope that you're heir has better sense and respect for her elders than you." With that, Savarah had swept away without another word. 'To one of her body slaves, no doubt,' Sahóra had thought distastefully. She and her aunt never got along.  
  
Sahóra's attention was brought sharply back to the present when Kheti managed to disarm her. "You were daydreaming again," Kheti growled, pushing her dark, curly hair out of her face. Kheti often said that daydreaming was Sahóra's one fault when fighting.  
  
"You allow yourself to become confident. That's when your mind begins to wander," the fighting woman often chastised. "Fighting *should* be instinctual, but no one has enough instinct to win a fight that their mind isn't on. Let's hope you always keep you attention on a *real* enemy. They won't stop at bruises."  
  
Kheti was now watching Sahóra speculatively. "You've a plan. I see it behind your eyes."  
  
"Oh, Kheti!" Sahóra forced a laugh. "You're always suspecting me of planning conspiracies! Really."  
  
"Sahóra," Kheti said warningly, "don't lie to me. I can tell. What are you up to this time?"  
  
Sahóra looked down, all pretense forgotten. How to explain this? She opened her mouth to speak, but, for a moment, no sound came out. Sahóra looked up and met Kheti's dark eyes with her own brilliant emerald. "I was thinking that maybe," she started slowly, "maybe Zahalin and I could heal some of the men in the Ziebarth. If we keep them healthy, then they'll last longer. And there's always the chance of disease in that filthy place." Sahóra wrinkled her small, button nose. "Any woman going down there is as in as much risk of disease as any of the men forced to live there. And maybe, to petition to Savarah to better the living condition of the men slightly."  
  
"That's a good idea, Sahóra, don't get me wrong, but I doubt Savarah will go for it."  
  
Sahóra sighed exasperatedly. "Why do you think I didn't tell her earlier? All she thinks about is herself."  
  
*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*  
  
"*WHAT*!?" Savarah screamed. Sahóra winced; she hadn't expected her aunt's reaction to be quite so violent. "Never! I refuse to let you help that.filth."  
  
Sahóra kept her calm with some difficulty. "It's not for their sakes. Do you want the women of our community to catch diseases from lying with men forced to live in filth?"  
  
"You know why we live as we do, Sahóra! You know what great wrongs they did to our ancestors."  
  
"Yes Savarah! I know, as does every other woman here. But does treating them the same- worse even!- right those wrongs? All I am asking, wise Mener, is for permission to help the men in a way that will help the women! It's a no lose situation."  
  
"Fine," Savarah spat. "You may go on your mission of mercy. But you go alone! I won't have our best healer- or any other woman, for that matter- participating in that waste of time when they could be at more important chores!" She spun on her heel and left.  
  
"Well," Sahóra muttered to herself. "That went better than I had expected. 


End file.
